


hot nights

by shxme



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Smut, Summer Sex, a bit of romance, a bit of smut, actually kinda half and half
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 04:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14609559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shxme/pseuds/shxme
Summary: a loud festival night and some frisking in the park. hanzo has trouble speaking his mind.





	hot nights

**Author's Note:**

> commission for @new-recipe 
> 
> my blog is @shamefoxx, feel free to drop a tip or an ask by me. would love to hear about it.

The summer night is approaching by the time Hanzo and Jesse get to the festival proper. It’s a mess of light and sound, altogether a bit intimidating.

But Hanzo doesn’t think about all the people, or the loud noises, or even the festival itself, because McCree tips his hat back, heat dampened hair sticking to his forehead.

Hanzo’s sure he’s never seen anyone more beautiful.

A slow smile curls across McCree’s face. “Well ain’t you a sight.”

One of his hands drifts up to idly smooth out a few creases from McCree’s yukata. “You should have let me help you.”

“Wanted it to be a surprise,” The cowboy shrugs.

Hanzo appraises him. The yukata is okay, a deep red with minimal wrinkles. The obi is more of a mess, tied roughly around his waist. But—there’s something about him that draws Hanzo closer, maybe the evident broadness of his shoulders, usually obscured by his serape, or his normally unkempt facial hair being a bit less wild. Hanzo gets closer and closer till he can see the warmth in McCree’s eyes.

“You look gorgeous,” Jesse offers. “Real proper,” The compliment burns it’s way down Hanzo’s throat.

“Likewise,” he manages to say. “We—we should go.”

McCree wraps an arm around his shoulders and they travel further into the festival.

 

***

 

They’re supposed to blend in, mission being done but their faces still recognizable. Hence the yukatas, Hanzo supposes. But McCree still has his hat and he doesn’t have the willpower to make him take it off. So instead he shows him through Hanamura. Thankfully downtown, not the streets near the castle where they’d have a better chance of being recognized.

The bonfire has already started. It outlines Jesse’s hair in a halo of light. Hanzo catches himself staring.

He’d never had this before. When he’d been involved in the Shimada clan there had been festivals, but he’d never had anyone like this to share it with. Not like this. Not like Jesse standing under the hot summer moon, waiting for him to catch up, waiting to spend time with him.

“Alright, buttercup?” McCree murmurs against his ear when he’s close.

“Yes,” Hanzo looks around at the crowd, smell of street food and burning heavy in the air. “It’s different.”

“Crowds too much?” Jesse asks.

Hanzo opens his mouth to say something. _Jesse_ is too much. Not in a bad way though. Too much in the way that he’s too close to perfect. He’s not used to being lovesick. Never thought of himself as the hopeless romantic, but here he is anyway.

“No,” he reassures McCree instead. “It’s different—being here with you. Just you and me.”

Jesse’s gaze softens. Hanzo wants to drown in it.

 

They step away from the roaring bonfire to eat street food that leaves oil on their fingers. Hanzo sticks close to McCree, pressing against his side with periodic breaks because Jesse is like a furnace and it’s already swelteringly humid out. They watch the dancing too, _bonodori_ dances that Hanzo’s last seen as a child. Blurry recollections are pushed aside by newer, clearer memories.

“Nine o’clock,” Jesse mutters suddenly, with a practiced turn of his wrist, like he’s looking at a watch that isn’t there. Hanzo’s heat addled brain instantly snaps into focus. His gaze flickers to the left and he immediately notices the group of men, a few omnics scattered in between. The Shimada crest is there on their belts like a beacon. They look to be busy, talking to each other casually.

Hanzo shares a look with Jesse. They split apart but McCree jerks his head forward and Hanzo follows his gaze to the intersection farther down.

“Don’t get lost,” he says.

Jesse flashes the white of his teeth in a wide grin. “Sweetheart, you’re worryin’ about nothing.”

Hanzo knows that, but he’s always been good at worrying. He moves away from McCree entirely and instead goes far left by the street vendors. The crowds are especially thick now, with the impending fireworks not long from now. Hanzo pushes his way through, keeping an eye on the clan members as he rotates around them. He goes unnoticed thankfully, and McCree’s already waiting for him on the corner like a breath of fresh air from the crowds.

“Let’s get outta here,” Jesse glances behind them. “Gettin busy.”

Hanzo nods. He follows McCree down the street, barely behind.

 

***

   

They find a spot, more or less off the beaten path. A lookout point, tucked in a small park between buildings, perfect for viewing fireworks and escaping loud crowds. It’s darker here, festival lights dimmed by the distance. Hanzo can breathe, away from all the people and the quietly suffocating bonfire heat. They sit on a bench, overlooking the festival proper.

“Fireworks should be starting soon,” McCree wraps an arm around his shoulders in the privacy of the dark. “Right?”

Hanzo shrugs. His attention hasn’t really been focused on the festival.

They lapse into silence for a few minutes, simply enjoying each other’s company and the quiet. When the first _crack_ of a firework echoes across the sky, Hanzo looks at McCree.

He’s not good at this kind of thing, not enough practice probably, with saying meaningful things. With the clan he was a parrot, repeating what he was told and nothing else. When he was alone he may as well have forgotten how to talk entirely.

But McCree drags words out of him.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

McCree tilts his head to look at him.

The words _“I love you”_ are trapped behind his teeth.

Jesse kisses him. Leans over and kisses him soft under the fireworks. Hanzo melts, because McCree’s a furnace and under the blistering moon it’s too much.

“Mind if I?” McCree rumbles against his mouth and Hanzo is helpless to deny him. He lets himself be pulled closer, almost on top of him. Then McCree’s suddenly going to work on him, sneaking a hand beneath his dark yukata to cup at his chest.

Hanzo almost thinks about pushing his hands away. They’re in public after all. Anyone could stumble upon them, see Jesse taking him apart piece by piece. But the fireworks are bursting across the sky and there’s so much going on the Hanzo just wants to let it happen.

So he shifts, hands clutching almost desperately at the cowboy’s face so he can kiss him again.

Jesse works a number on him, rolling a nipple between his fingers before he leans down and _bites_ and Hanzo arches his back, hips grinding against nothing substantial. The hands on McCree’s face slip lower to grip at his shoulders. He swings himself around to fully straddle Jesse, yukata making his movements clumsy.

“Somethin’ about seeing you in that—” Hanzo feels Jesse’s metal fingers grope at his ass through the yukata. “Don’t quite know what it is.”

Hanzo lets the cowboy’s hands wander further, till they’re reaching under the yukata and pulling the back of his briefs down.

“Likewise,” he gasps as a cold fingertip taps experimentally against his hole. He arches his back, wiggling backwards to let McCree have easier access.

Jesse’s scruff scratches along his collarbone as he chuckles. “I take it you really want it then?”

In answer, Hanzo’s palm finds the man’s bulge and presses down. McCree’s chuckle devolves into a wheeze.

“Careful there buttercup,” he groans. “I know you’re impatient but we need to get you ready.”

   

McCree spends some time stretching him out. They don’t have the supplies needed and Hanzo is treated so gently he’d almost despise it if he didn’t know that Jesse was doing it out of kindness. By the time he’s deemed ready however, Hanzo’s rock hard and aching. A mess.

“Jesse,” he breathes, begs. “Ready.”

McCree pulls his fingers out, leaving him feeling horribly empty. He scooches forward as Jesse pulls his dick out from between the folds in his yukata.

“Easy does it,” he murmurs and pushes inside. It’s all clumsy because neither of them have taken off their clothes and the humidity clings to their skin.

It burns until just after Hanzo’s settled, ass flush against McCree’s hips. Everything is so hot, long past overwhelming. At least the fireworks have stopped, leaving them in relative darkness as the festival crowd has started to return home. Hanzo finds Jesse’s mouth in the dark and kisses him as McCree tweaks one of his nipples again and his hips jerk.

“Jess—” He rolls his hips experimentally, to test for pain. When he finds none he starts again, lifting his hips and slipping back down with a heady sigh.

“Always so good, buttercup,” McCree sucks a mark into his neck. “Always so perfect for me.”

The words have built up again, choked in his throat. _“I love you, you’re perfect, you make me a better person. I’ve never had this before but I never want it to go,”_ He wants to say them, wants to let them tumble out word by word.

McCree rocks his hips upwards to thrust deep and it takes Hanzo’s voice away entirely. He feels a bead of sweat drip off the tip of his nose. His knees hurt from rubbing against the bench but he couldn't care less because everything feels so good. His cock aches and leaks against his stomach, under his barely-still-on yukata.

He wants to say it. It’s hard but if anyone deserves to hear it, Jesse does. He leans forward, to whisper long buried words.

A branch cracks somewhere behind them, and Hanzo immediately slides a hand over Jesse’s mouth, wide eyed. Animal or human, the knowledge that someone could very easily see them in such a compromising position hits him like a downpour of cold water. Jesse also reacts quickly, pivoting them to the right so that he’s awkwardly lying flat on the bench and pulling Hanzo down against his chest.

They’re silent for a few moments as grass crunches under foot, stomping loudly behind them. Hanzo doesn’t even dare to breathe. Jesse’s still inside him and he wiggles his hips, to try and get into a more comfortable position. McCree’s eyes go wide for just a second, before he grinds his hips _hard_ into him. Hanzo bites his lip to muffle the surprised sound that escapes him.

   

The sounds stop entirely. Hanzo locks his gaze with McCree and they stare at each other through the hazy darkness. They stare at each other till whoever’s in the park leaves and the desperate pressure building up in Hanzo’s chest is too much.

“Love you, Jess,” he finally whispers when McCree finally eases them up to their old position.

Jesse blinks. He doesn’t have a cigarillo but his jaw moves like he’s grinding on one. As he does when he’s thinking.

“Love you too,” he says eventually. His thumb grazes against Hanzo’s bottom lip as they continue to rock together. “Love you so much.”

 

***

 

They take a shower at their hotel, tired, dishevelled, and sore. Hanzo lets filthy white drip down his legs and wash down the drain. McCree runs the hot water so long that eventually they bail when it turns to ice, climbing out of the shower in a hurry.

   

They both collapse into bed, soiled clothing in the washing machine, legs tangled together, sleeping to catch a flight back to reality in the morning.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (@shamefoxx) <3


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